Sunday's postcard, An apology, two struggles and three remarkable women

August 25, 2024

Horses on the Jordan-Knott loop, western Whitman County

Feet to the floor, and pedals to the metal

It is an enigma of human life that we can be inspired and heartbroken at the same time. When I find myself in that dizzy spiral I don’t write very well. So I don’t write. Hence my absence from this space in the past few days. The depression part of the mix is explicable, a death in the family, the lengthening shadow of mortality, and the accruing reminders that the athleticism I used to take for granted is beyond its warranty. Fortunately, I can still create space to laugh at and with myself.

That said, I stepped out of bed, three days ago, and quickly wrote a note to my beloved daughter.

Dear Audrey, I woke up this morning somewhat exhausted by an unplanned hike (in sandals, yikes) all the way around Medical Lake yesterday afternoon/evening. Had several thoughts as the sun came up this morning, one of which was/is I’m really sorry about introducing you to RFK, Jr. As you know, I try not to over-use profanity, because I don’t want to wear it out. But, RFK, Jr.: what a [bleep]ing jackass… Oh, and good morning, and good luck saying goodbye to mom later today…[heart emoji].

Audrey, uneasily meeting RFK, Jr., in May 2011

I did actually introduce Audrey, in person, to RFK, Jr., thirteen years ago when I was part of a loose entourage hosting him and the famous mountain climber Jim Whittaker. This was at an event to raise money for the Spokane Riverkeeper and Pend Oreille Waterkeeper projects. It took place four years before Kennedy’s notoriously deceitful anti-vaccination campaign took flight and only three years before he took a dead bear to Central Park in New York and, under cover of darkness, staged a scene with a bicycle to make it appear the bear had died from a collision with the bike.

Two days ago, this living mess of a narcissist (who would have been executed by now, if Donald Trump’s prescription for punishing drug dealers had been in effect during RFK Jr.’s stormy, consequence-free youth) announced he’s effectively ending his bid to become president, and throwing his support wholeheartedly to Trump. Trump welcomed this with open arms. Several of Kennedy’s siblings’ had a different reaction, denouncing his endorsement of Trump as a “betrayal” of their family’s values. As for Audrey, her withering critique of RFK Jr. appeared in this space last winter, along with a photo of her and Kennedy (above), his hand on her shoulder, her eyes communicating a prescient wariness.

Over the years, I’ve met and interviewed several politicians, some of whom I’ve known well and some of whom have explained (both on and off the record) the nature of political compromises. Some of the compromises seem shrewd, others have left me speechless or made my skin crawl. I wouldn’t put these confiding pols in the same class as Kennedy who, like Trump, is about as contemptible as a charlatan can be.

In May of 2011, here in Spokane, RFK Jr. basked in gales of applause when he railed against polluters whose off-gases contribute, massively, to lung disease, mercury contamination and global warming of the biosphere. On Friday RFK Jr. wholeheartedly endorsed a felon and adjudicated sex offender who mocks the very idea of a warming planet and who, earlier this year, vowed to lift regulations and taxes on fossil fuel companies in exchange for $1 billion in cash for his campaign.

Perhaps one way to put it is that I’ve been vaccinated or at least forewarned against wholesale investments of faith or hope on the basis of what politicians espouse. But hope has been essential this year. There’s no healthy substitute for it. The 2024 election has an existential quality to it—both with regard to the biosphere and to the implications for our democracy against the deeply disturbing rise of Trump’s brand of authoritarianism, racism, misogyny and promises of “retribution.” In this crucial year Joe Biden has also been a bitter disappointment, in the way he has allowed the U.S. to be played by Israel’s corrupt authoritarian leader—Benjamin Netanyahu—and abetted Netanyahu’s indiscriminate killing and other crimes against humanity in Gaza. The collective gasp from Biden’s stunningly awful debate performance could be heard from coast-to-coast.

Something needed to happen, and it did, a month ago, with Biden announcing (after weeks of pressure from within his party) that he would not seek re-election. He then swiftly endorsed his vice president, Kamala Harris, to be the Democratic nominee. In short, a festival ensued, culminating last Thursday night with gushes of enthusiasm and new hope that our imperfect democracy would not succumb to an even more toxic form of Trumpism than the one that led to the Jan. 6, 2021 insurrection.

Rather than rehash the details here (they abound elsewhere, on paper and in the electric rivers of the internet) what I prefer to do is honor three women whose stories have inspired me in this tumultuous time.

Then-Speaker Nancy Pelosi at a climate change event in 2021

Nancy Pelosi

The 84 year-old former Speaker of the House remains the bete noire of Trump Republicans. My politics more closely aligns with Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Seattle’s Pramila Jayapal, two of the progressive “squad” members that Pelosi tried to reign in as Speaker. (She continues to serve as the representative from her Congressional district in California.) But Pelosi has always been clear-eyed about Trumpism. Her resolve and courage to resist it will no doubt be emphasized by historians—mostly by what she’s endured and accomplished in the past four years.

She was clearly a target, along with Vice President Mike Pence, when the Trump-inspired mob swarmed and broke into the Capitol on January 6, 2021. Her office was invaded, putting her and her staff in mortal danger as Trump did nothing to call off the attack. The following year a right-wing zealot, drunk on conspiracy theories, broke through glass-paneled doors to get into her house in San Francisco. She wasn’t home, but her 83-year-old husband, Paul Pelosi, was. The intruder clobbered him with a hammer, fracturing his skull.

As pressure mounted on Biden to step aside after his disastrous debate performance against Trump on June 27th, there was also pressure from other party elders and prominent media figures to back off. But Pelosi didn’t back off. More so than anyone else she confronted Biden and his campaign staff with the polling evidence that his campaign was in a tail-spin and that he would almost certainly lose to Trump. I can easily imagine that her resolve came in large part from the close call during the insurrection and the physical attack on her husband. She knows what violence and chaos Trump can deliver, because it’s been delivered directly to her office and home. To be sure, it is Kamala Harris who will ultimately confront Trump in this year’s election. If she pulls it off, and prevails, it would not have happened without Nancy Pelosi’s strength and resolve.

Today’s post is free to Rhubarb Salon, please consider supporting The Daily Rhubarb with a paid subscription at the link below—tjc

Michele Obama

I don’t know that there’s a better orator in American history than Michele Obama. But I think her speech last Wednesday night will solidify her in the top echelon of that list.

There is one excerpt that gave me goosebumps, because it was about an experience nearly all of us know and wonder about: what were the Obamas feeling and thinking during the several years when Donald Trump was pushing the conspiracy that Barack Obama’s Hawaiian birth records were fraudulent and that he was really born in Kenya? Here’s how she spoke to it, briefly, but powerfully.

For years, Donald Trump did everything in his power to try to make people fear us.

See, his limited, narrow view of the world made him feel threatened by the existence of two hard-working, highly educated, successful people who happen to be Black. I want to know — I want to know — who’s going to tell him, who’s going to tell him, that the job he is currently seeking might just be one of those Black jobs?

It’s his same old con. His same old con. Doubling down on ugly, misogynistic, racist lies as a substitute for real ideas and solutions that will actually make people’s lives better.

Ruwa Romman

It will be hard to put into words the depth of disappointment I share, with countless others, about the decision organizers of the Democratic National Convention made not to give time for a relatively short speech from Ruwa Romman. Ms. Romman is a Palestinian woman and an elected state representative from Georgia.

There were so many earnest voices speaking from the DNC podium last week about the value of inclusion, commitment to human rights, etc. There was also a clear awareness that the most divisive controversy within and beyond the party’s big tent was its seemingly blind eyes and deaf ears to the plight of innocent Palestinians being bombed and starved in Gaza.

Yet, it didn’t happen. Rep. Romman was forced to give her speech on a sidewalk outside the hall.

If one were only concerned about the politics of it all then it should matter that the following evening, the hypocrisy underlining Rep. Romman’s exclusion from the podium earned the party one of the most biting smackdowns popular comedian Jon Stewart has ever delivered on The Daily Show.

But the moral punch is the one that reaches the solar plexus. A 2,000 bomb that explodes in a refugee camp is not a tree that falls in the forest that no one sees or hears with their last heartbeat. So much of the pledge that lovely and earnest Democrats were making in Chicago ended with the words “we see you,” and “we hear you.” It’s long past time to live up to that..

Here is the text of Rep. Romman’s speech which she shared with Mother Jones magazine:

My name is Ruwa Romman, and I’m honored to be the first Palestinian elected to public office in the great state of Georgia and the first Palestinian to ever speak at the Democratic National Convention. My story begins in a small village near Jerusalem, called Suba, where my dad’s family is from. My mom’s roots trace back to Al Khalil, or Hebron. My parents, born in Jordan, brought us to Georgia when I was eight, where I now live with my wonderful husband and our sweet pets.

Growing up, my grandfather and I shared a special bond. He was my partner in mischief—whether it was sneaking me sweets from the bodega or slipping a $20 into my pocket with that familiar wink and smile. He was my rock, but he passed away a few years ago, never seeing Suba or any part of Palestine again. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss him.

This past year has been especially hard. As we’ve been moral witnesses to the massacres in Gaza, I’ve thought of him, wondering if this was the pain he knew too well. When we watched Palestinians displaced from one end of the Gaza Strip to the other I wanted to ask him how he found the strength to walk all those miles decades ago and leave everything behind. 

But in this pain, I’ve also witnessed something profound—a beautiful, multifaith, multiracial, and multigenerational coalition rising from despair within our Democratic Party. For 320 days, we’ve stood together, demanding to enforce our laws on friend and foe alike to reach a ceasefire, end the killing of Palestinians, free all the Israeli and Palestinian hostages, and to begin the difficult work of building a path to collective peace and safety. That’s why we are here—members of this Democratic Party committed to equal rights and dignity for all. What we do here echoes around the world.

They’ll say this is how it’s always been, that nothing can change. But remember Fannie Lou Hamer—shunned for her courage, yet she paved the way for an integrated Democratic Party. Her legacy lives on, and it’s her example we follow.

But we can’t do it alone. This historic moment is full of promise, but only if we stand together. Our party’s greatest strength has always been our ability to unite. Some see that as a weakness, but it’s time we flex that strength. 

Let’s commit to each other, to electing Vice President Harris and defeating Donald Trump who uses my identity as a Palestinian as a slur. Let’s fight for the policies long overdue—from restoring access to abortions to ensuring a living wage, to demanding an end to reckless war and a ceasefire in Gaza. To those who doubt us, to the cynics and the naysayers, I say, yes we can—yes we can be a Democratic Party that prioritizes funding our schools and hospitals, not for endless wars. That fights for an America that belongs to all of us—Black, brown, and white, Jews and Palestinians, all of us, like my grandfather taught me, together.

Here is an interview Rep. Romman gave to MSNBC’s Ali Velshi yesterday morning.

—tjc